Russia’s inherent “northerness”—an internal force with origins in the country’s geography and climate—may prove to be a decisive advantage as the Arctic region becomes increasingly central to the larger strategic landscape throughout Greater Eurasia. But tapping into the riches of the Arctic and capitalising on this advantage to the fullest extent is something that will require dedicated effort and special attention, writes Maria Lagutina, Doctor of Political Science, Professor at the Department of World Politics, Saint Petersburg State University.
Until recently, Russia was strategically conceptualised as a continental Eurasian power—a space of overland connections, transport corridors, a “bridge” between West and East. In the context of current geopolitical transformations, this formula is losing its relevance: “We need to rid ourselves of the stereotype—are we West or East? <…> Russia is not in between; Russia is the North. <…> Northerness is Russia’s distinctiveness, its natural and cultural foundation. <…> All of Russia is a northern country, including the steppes and the Caucasus. Our centre lies almost on the Arctic Circle, at the mouth of the Yenisei. This is not symbolism—it is geography.” For a long time, Russia shuttled between East and West in search of its identity, positioning itself as a “Eurasian bridge” between Europe and Asia, reflecting its role as a transit territory linking two centres of the global economy. However, as a result of the geopolitical transformations of the late twentieth century, an objective shift of Russia towards the North-East has taken place, leading to a transformation of its great-power status. A new spatial configuration emerges—Northern Eurasia as a distinct macro-regional reality, where the Arctic and the north-eastern vector are no longer perceived as a periphery, but as the axis of spatial and strategic development. The Arctic and the Far East are no longer Russia’s “edge”, but its new “core”, concentrating resources, transport routes, and strategic opportunities.
In this context, Russia no longer merely connects other centres of power, but forms its own centre of gravity in the role of a Eurasian “civilisation-state”, defining the rules of access to this “core”. It is precisely within this shift that the key to rethinking the entire construct of Greater Eurasia in the twenty-first century may lie.
The Continental Idea of Greater Eurasia and Its Limits
The concept of “Greater Eurasia” gained traction in the early twenty-first century amid the crisis of the previous world order architecture and implies, above all, the strengthening of continental integration. The weakening of ties with Europe, the failure of the “Greater Europe” project following the two Ukrainian crises of 2014 and 2022, the subsequent sanctions pressure on Russia, and the transformation of the international system as a whole necessitated the search for an alternative spatial configuration of development. In this context, the concept of “Greater Eurasia” became not merely a foreign policy project of Russia, but rather an attempt to rethink its place within the emerging multipolar world order.
The idea of “Greater Eurasia” rests on two conceptual pillars: the classical Eurasianist tradition, emphasising Russia’s uniqueness as a civilisational space between Europe and Asia, and the principles of pragmatic Eurasianism, grounded in the geoeconomic logic of the twenty-first century, including the growing role of Asia in the global economy, the rise of China, and the development of integration formats outside Western institutions.
In practice, Greater Eurasia came to be envisaged as a broad network of partnerships—from the Eurasian Economic Union and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation to an expanded BRICS—uniting continental states on the basis of infrastructural and economic interconnectedness. In 2016, Vladimir Putin formalised this idea with the Greater Eurasian Partnership project. Greater Eurasia was moulded on a land-based logic, with emphasis placed on the development of railway and road corridors, the modernisation of the Trans-Siberian Railway and the Baikal–Amur Mainline, the alignment of the Eurasian Economic Union with the land-based component of China’s Belt and Road Initiative—the Silk Road Economic Belt—alongside the development of the external contour of Eurasian integration and the strengthening of ties with Central Asia and the Eurasian continent represented by China and India. The key paradigm became the “pivot to the East”, primarily signifying the reorientation of trade and investment flows from the western direction to the eastern one in the context of the crisis in relations between Russia and the West. This approach was based on the assumption that Eurasia remains, above all, a continental space, while the maritime dimension plays a secondary role. The Arctic was viewed as a resource reserve, a northern periphery, rather than a key structural framework of Greater Eurasia.
By the early 2020s, it became evident that continental logic alone was insufficient. First, climate change is radically transforming the significance of northern territories: melting ice is turning the Arctic not only into a resource base, but also into a strategically important transport artery. The Northern Sea Route is gradually evolving from a national project into a factor of international logistics. Second, global trade remains predominantly maritime, and neglecting the maritime dimension artificially constrains the potential of the Eurasian project. Third, there is a shift in the centre of economic activity within Russia itself: the Arctic, northern seaports, and the Far East are assuming a key role. The previous spatial development of the country, built along a “southern” axis, no longer corresponds to present realities or strategic needs. Finally, the global geopolitical configuration has undergone profound transformation: great-power competition is shifting towards high latitudes, the Arctic is ceasing to be a space of “Arctic exceptionalism”, and is increasingly integrated into global political processes, becoming an arena of active interaction between Arctic and non-Arctic actors.
Thus, the continental model of Greater Eurasia, which played an important role during the period of strategic reorientation, encounters its limits in the 2020s. There is now a need to complement the continental logic with a maritime, northern one—to connect land corridors with Arctic sea routes, the resource base with the transport infrastructure of Siberia, the Urals, and the Far East, and geoeconomics with the geography of climate.
The Arctic as a New Centre of Greater Eurasia
It is important to understand that, in the longer term, this is not merely a situational adjustment of course, but a return to Russia’s own spatial logic of development. The development of the North and eastward expansion historically formed the foundation of the Russian state and became part of its historical code. The North functioned as a space of mobilisation, resource concentration, and the formation of a specific type of statehood—centralised, oriented towards infrastructural breakthroughs and large-scale territorial projects.
The “turn to the North” corresponds to Russia’s objective geography—a country with the world’s longest Arctic coastline and a significant portion of its territory in high latitudes. The majority of the Arctic’s population resides precisely within the Arctic zone of the Russian Federation—around two million out of four million inhabitants of the entire Arctic. The contemporary development of this zone—including the modernisation of port, transportation, and energy infrastructure, the construction of next-generation icebreakers, the expansion of railway corridors, the creation of key settlement hubs, and other similar efforts — reproduce this logic under new conditions.
The Northern Sea Route is becoming the infrastructural backbone of the Eurasian space, as Russia’s North begins to connect not only its Arctic regions with one another, but also Russia with Asian markets. Crucially, in contemporary Russian policy the Arctic is no longer a “reserve space”, but is transforming into a central component of national strategy. This is not the development of a periphery, but the institutionalisation of Russia’s “northerness” as a systemic factor of development in the twenty-first century.
For a long time, the Arctic was perceived precisely as a “periphery”, characterised by harsh climatic conditions, complex logistics, and limited suitability for comfortable living or extensive economic activity. However, the twenty-first century is gradually changing this perception: under conditions of climatic shifts and transformations in global trade, the Arctic is becoming a promising infrastructural node of Eurasia, where energy flows, transport routes, and the strategic interests of leading world powers intersect.
The Russian Arctic generates a unique effect: the region simultaneously serves as both a resource base and a transit corridor—something rarely encountered anywhere in the world, as resource-rich regions are typically located far from major transport routes. In Russia’s case, resource and logistical potential coincide within a single space. This forms a northern development line of the country—from the Kola Peninsula through Yamal and Taymyr to Chukotka and Kamchatka.
The Arctic transforms the very conceptual foundation of the Eurasian project, as it synthesises a continental logic of development—based on overland connections and the strategic autonomy of landmasses—and a maritime one—built on flexibility, speed, and the openness of trade routes. In Russia’s current national strategy, this synthesis is embodied in the multimodal Trans-Arctic Transport Corridor, presented by Vladimir Putin in March 2025 at the International Arctic Forum “Arctic—Territory of Dialogue” in Murmansk.
This project would see the creation of a unified system of transport corridors linking the regions of Siberia, the Urals, and the Far East with the ports of the Northern Sea Route and extending those links further out to global trade routes. It envisages the integration of maritime and land corridors into a single system, where inland routes connect the country’s internal regions, and the northern route ensures access to global markets. The centre of gravity thus shifts towards the northern arc—from Murmansk to Vladivostok.
The Arctic is becoming the axis of Eurasian integration—not only internally, but also externally. Internally, this involves the creation of industrial and energy clusters in the Arctic, the development of the Far East as a key junction linking the Arctic with the Asia-Pacific region, and the strengthening of the military-strategic dimension of Russia’s Arctic policy, as the Arctic also constitutes the country’s northern frontier, which must be secured.
Externally, under current conditions, the “northern dimension” of Greater Eurasia is inseparable from the eastern vector. China, India, and Southeast Asian countries are interested in diversifying logistics routes and energy supplies. For Asian states, the Arctic is no longer a distant or abstract region—it is acquiring significant strategic importance. Russia, in turn, acts as the organiser of this entire northern architecture of Greater Eurasia—across both eastern and northern directions.
Risks and Limits of the “Turn to the North”
Russia’s strategic shift towards the North-East should not be perceived as an unconditional trajectory of success. For the concept of “Northern Eurasia” not to remain a purely declarative formula, it is essential to account for the potential risks associated with its development. “Northerness” may become a competitive advantage for Russia in the twenty-first century—but it may also turn into a source of excessive strain on the country’s economy and state resources.
Among these risks are demographic challenges—low population density, high migration towards central regions, and the high cost of living in the North—as well as infrastructural constraints, including ageing Soviet-era infrastructure requiring substantial investment and continuous technological renewal. There are also climatic and environmental risks: permafrost thaw, coastal erosion, and changes in hydrological regimes pose threats to infrastructure, necessitating a balance between economic activity and environmental responsibility. Finally, geopolitical competition in the Arctic raises the risk of militarisation of the region. Russia must simultaneously develop cooperative frameworks and ensure the strategic security of its Arctic zone.
Returning to the notion of “pivots” in contemporary Russian policy, it should be noted that, as a great power seeking to “preserve and strengthen its influence at the global level”, Russia simply cannot afford to pursue any one-sided policy. In this context, the “turn to the North” should not replace other directions of Russia’s development, but has the potential to complement them—provided it is embedded within a balanced strategy.
Russia’s “northerness” represents potential, not a passive advantage; it requires institutional maturity, a technological base, and long-term planning. If Northern Eurasia remains merely an ideological construct, it will remain political rhetoric. If, however, it is supported by a realistic assessment of risks and a systemic policy, as well as a comprehensive approach to development, then the “turn to the North” may become a sustainable structural shift rather than a temporary reaction to external circumstances.
At this stage, the principal challenge lies not in mastering ice and permafrost territories, but in institutionalising “northerness”—that is, in building a sustainable model of integrated development combining security, environmental responsibility, economic efficiency, and international cooperation. Russia is the northern core of Eurasia, and whether it succeeds in conceptualising and institutionally shaping its northern identity will determine not only its own future, but also the entire configuration of Greater Eurasia in the twenty-first century.
